


Heaven's Once Discarded

by soulfulwhispers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Fading Grace, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2000538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfulwhispers/pseuds/soulfulwhispers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's grace is burning up, and he is slowly (and then not so slowly) falling apart. Brought back to the bunker, a weekend full of fun and harmless pranks by Sam and Gabriel aimed at getting Dean to admit his love for Cas turns to disaster when the consequences of Castiel's stolen grace catch up with all of them. What do they all stand to lose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story Note: This takes place in late season nine, when Metatron makes a trade with the boys: Castiel for the return of Gadreel. It then deviates from the established story to pursue the author’s whimsical storyline. This is not meant to follow canon, but to build an individual story separate to the established narrative borrowing the characters as they are known.

Heaven’s Once Discarded

 

Sam always sat shotgun, but he wouldn’t have minded the back seat this time around. The drive was somber, and the Impala’s engine growled with an impatience that etched itself dutifully in lines settled in its driver’s face. Dean drove with his knuckles white on the wheel, his countenance one of barely controlled frustration. Sam was used to long drives with stony silences, and often employed them to good use, basking in the quiet when his thoughts would for once not be questioned. But he also knew those silences that were far more accusatory, with the same angry edge that forced one to turn inwards in doubt and blame, and as he lifted his eyes to the rear- view mirror, he knew that Castiel was withering under Dean’s oppressive disappointment. He was taking it very much to heart. 

Tapping his knee in impatience, Sam shot his brother a warning glare. Dean was not always sensitive to the struggle of those around him when he felt that he had lost something or deserved to gain more. He was even less agreeable when he felt himself at fault. Sam understood this, and had grown to abide by these moments, keeping a polite distance from Dean to leave him with his thoughts. He understood that the loss of Gadreel and Metatron’s smug reveal of superiority had left his brother reeling, and that he was frustrated at his loss of leverage. Castiel understood this also, as his subconscious squirming in the back seat confirmed. The worn angel could not sit still. His eyes were downcast and his head, when it wasn’t tilted towards the window, rested down on his chest. His hands lay in his lap, grasping at each other, looking for purchase in his solidity. When he raised them, it was only to rub at the seat belt, as if it was the only thing keeping there. Sam knew that Cas wanted to stay, and that he was not looking to run again. But he worried as he observed the angel fall farther and farther into what seemed to be despair. He cleared his throat – 

“I’m sorry” the voice was a gravelly whisper. 

Sam stopped himself from immediately responding. Instead, he cleared his mind and met Cas’ eyes through the mirror, “For what?”

“For losing you Gadreel, he is far more useful to you than I.”

“Cas, it’s not your fault. We don’t need –”

“But is far more than that” Castiel continued. “It has already been established, but I wish to address it again. I am the reason for Metatron being as he is now. I don’t know the source of his new found power. But it was my folly that gave him the place to find it. I’m s –”

Dean snorted in the front seat and shook his head. Sam turned to him in confusion before turning back to watch Cas sink farther into his seat. The poor angel had no need to apologize, and had only been endeavoring to do the ultimate good for his people, and yet he was afraid suddenly in his brother’s presence.

“You need to can it on the constant apologies” Dean insisted roughly. His voice was flat, and his jaw set. He kept his eyes focused on the road.

Castiel balked at this, much to Sam’s amazement. He had not seen the angel break under far greater circumstances, and his sudden pliability unnerved him. “Dean, I did not intend to anger you. Nor do I mean to disappoint you, as I know I have done previously, and have once more done again.”

“Cas, buddy, come on. It’s alright. Dean’s not –” But Sam was soon cut off with a glare from Dean.

“It’s not alright. But for once I won’t blame the fallen angel. I’m pissed. But let’s keep it focused on Metatron. Shut up and let me drive.” His words were broken by his tiredness, but delivered harshly. The last line a barking command that silenced the passengers for the remainder of their journey to the bunker.

Cas kept his head down, shoulders shaking slightly as the car travelled on.


	2. Chapter 2

-That evening at the bunker, a reprieve in the dining/sitting room-

 

Sam was quick to enter the bunker upon their arrival, escorting Cas who approached it with a contrary mix of relief and apprehension. But Dean beat them both to the door, making sure to carry all the bags. He threw open the door, leaving it open behind him and disappeared inside. 

The dining room was empty, the long table bare save for a few discarded texts at its far corner, and a few scribbled upon sheets of paper. The lights were on however, a silent sign of Dean’s consideration. It was likely to be his only way of apology. 

Cas went to sit immediately, not knowing what to do with himself otherwise. He seemed so small beneath the high ceilings and among the vastness of the shelter around him. The men of letters had created their own functional world, and he wondered at his place in it. He always posed the same question. 

“Cas.” 

He only stared blankly ahead.

Sam shifted, went to sit, hesitated, and then merely stepped forward.

“Do you think me a villain?” Cas posed his inquiry quietly, but with an undercurrent force.

“No.” Sam’s answer was immediate. And he struggled to phrase his point through his confusion at the sudden question. “You are not a villain any more than Dean or I are.” 

“I have killed in the thousands, and more.”

Sam hesitated. “Then you are no more a villain than I can consider myself to be.” He went to the table and sat across from Castiel, “And I have not been allowed to do otherwise, even though I often wish it differently.”

“You wish yourself to be considered a villain?”

“I wish to be held accountable for my actions.”

Castiel sighed. “Then you have lied, and must figure me a villain, for I have done much the same as you, and then some more quite differently.”

“You misunderstand me, Cas.” Sam ran his hand through his hair, “I wish sometimes to be thought evil, for I feel I have done a great deal of wrong. But I remember wishing to do good, and have been forgiven for that. I am not a villain. I have recognized my faults and I live to rectify them.”

“The greatest evil is often done by those with good intentions, Sam.” 

“Yes, but the seal of that evil is when you revel in the result. You have not done that.”

Castiel slammed the table with his fist and stood up. Shoving the chair away from him roughly, he moved to begin pacing about the room. “But I have done that too, once. I have lost myself in that way before.” He continued to pace while his hands wrung themselves in his hair. Sam remained silent, watching him. He could not bring himself to rise from his seat, for fear of upsetting the man before him. Cas’ eyes flashed blue, and he hurled one of the forsaken texts at one of the far walls. “And I had wondered – had dared to be shocked – when Metatron professed me to be the villain of his story. I had been appalled at his orchestration. But I should have expected. I was already created to be so. To be ready for him.”

Sam’s brow furrowed in greater confusion. “What do mean, Cas? Ready for Metatron how?”

“He told me that his plan was all one grand and epic story, he spoke of a hero to rise out of it. I thought he spoke of someone rising against him, I thought it to be me.”

“Metatron is writing his own battle? Cas, who does he expect to bring him down?”

Castiel chuckled darkly. “No Sam. He is writing all of our battles to revolve around himself. He doesn’t expect to be brought down, but he has manufactured an opponent. Me.”

Sam sat up straighter, surprised. He flexed his hands unknowingly, focusing completely on Castiel. 

“He hails himself a hero.”

“Every narcissist does.” Sam flinched as the angel turned to him in rage.

“We were supposed to restore Heaven! He used me. Took my grace from me!” He took a step forward and shook his head, “And you know what? I deserved it. I trusted him. God trusted him, Sam. Gave him His word to take down, and he tainted it to his own means. But he was trusted. In my Father’s eyes, he would be a grand defiler. And yet in his story, I am his opposite.” Castiel backed up, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. His voice rose to an accusatory battle cry, “I am villain to the third to betray since Lucifer!” Castiel fell then into his chair, utterly spent.

“Cas,” Sam faltered, astounded at the angel’s outburst. He fidgeted in his seat, distantly noticing a shadow in the doorway to his right. “Who was the second?” He figured that this would be the safest question.

“Myself.”

“What?” Sam shook his head, “You know what, Cas? It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. You have done much more than fallen.”

“I am the villain suited to Metatron though.”

Sam scoffed. “No you’re not.”

Castiel raised his head, eyes narrowing, “Don’t you see, Sam? It is blaringly obvious. I declared myself villain to my Father when I rebelled against Heaven years ago. I was already well crafted.”

“You rebelled for a hero’s errand. This is no different.”

Castiel grew more confused as Sam began to laugh softly. It was not rude or condescending, but a relieved merriment. He was tired, and he felt himself relaxing involuntarily. “How?”

“Who are we fighting against?”

“Metatron.”

“And why are we fighting him?”

“Sam. We need to restore Heaven –”

Sam smiled widely, “Isn’t that a noble cause? Making him the villain of our story.”

“But it’s his story.”

“No it’s not. It isn’t even a story. Although it may be for him. Of course you are the villain, he would never cast himself as one. You are all worked up over his opinion, Cas. When it means nothing.”

Cas sighed. “You’re right. And I realize now how foolish my, um, my fit, has been. I should not have let his words derail me. I feel better, but why am I still so heavily weighted?” He was quick to appease, growing uneasy in his depressed state.

“You feel guilt for actions outside of your encounter with Metatron. You are heaping all that on yourself. But you needn’t punish yourself further. We forgive you, Cas. I forgive you. You need to forgive yourself and move forward.”

Sam stood and walked around the table, wrapping Castiel in a quick hug as he stood. Footsteps were heard quickly approaching and the man in the trench coat stiffened.

“Dean.” 

The hunter stopped abruptly. Sam stood to the side as he turned around, his arm left out as if he felt the need to protect the startled angel.

“You heard everything.”

Dean nodded.

“I was a fool.”

Dean shook his head and moved forward. “No.” 

He continued forward, and outstretched his hand, “Cas, I was wrong to place blame on you for all this. I know you try, you do. And you’ve done a hell of a lot of good for us too. I know you are trying to do the same thing now.” Castiel took his hand firmly, but his gaze shifted, as if he was unsure if looking directly at Dean would reveal a mirage. 

“That room you showed me before, down the hall. Am I free to use it now?”

“Yes.”

Castiel departed from the room without another word. He looked back once, as if to thank Sam, and paused when he met Dean’s gaze, smile faltering as if suddenly embarrassed as he fled the room.

Sam excused himself to the kitchen, grasping his brother’s shoulder on his way out. He paused in the doorway however, to observe him. Dean seemed lost in the empty room, shocked by the day’s events. He scratched at his right arm absently as he fell back into the chair Cas discarded, resting his head in his hands as if in defeat.


	3. Chapter 3

-An unlikely visitor descends-

 

A pot hit the floor with a crash as the lights flickered three times and then settled back to their normal warm glow.

“Ah, poor Deano. He just let down the One he loves!”

Sam shivered as he heard the voice behind him, his shock a mix of post traumatic stress and burning curiosity.  
“Gabriel?” His back remained turned, even as he addressed the trickster.

The arch angel clapped his hands, and pulled up on the tall man’s shoulders, to place his mouth by his ear from behind, “The one and only, Sam.”

“You’re alive?” 

The man patted Sam’s shoulders twice, and pushed off to walk around him and further into the kitchen. He picked up the pan he had dropped and twirled it in his fingers, “Sorry, I couldn’t resist a little show.”

Sam couldn’t decide whether or not he was referring to playing dead or dropping the pan upon his entrance, but he figured there were more important things. “What are you doing here?”

“I feel I’ve been called for.” With this, he bounded as if in a sugar rush towards the kitchen door. He leaned his head giddily around to watch Dean in his misery.

Sam walked to him, and pulled him back. “Who called you?”

Gabriel snorted. “No one. But I’ve been looking for some fun. Been trying to stay out of trouble, under the radar, but with Heaven kaput I’ve had to be somewhat involved, unfortunately. I’ve been keeping an eye on my little brother.”

“You mean Cas?”

“What other one would I bother with?” Gabriel rolled his eyes and moved from Sam’s touch. “But I’ve just been watching, he doesn’t even know I’ve been doing it. I meant to take my leave once you three made it here, but the most delicious things have been unraveling…”

“Like what?”

He laughed, “You haven’t noticed?”

Sam shook his head.

“Well for such a tall brute, a lot passes you by.”

“Funny.” Sam rolled his eyes and shifted uncomfortably. “What do you want, Gabriel? There’s always some higher motive with you, and I’d rather deal with it quickly, if not at all.”

“Tut tut tut Sam. You know better than to be rude with me, I play nasty games when I’ve been rubbed the wrong way.”

“Gabriel, please.”

The angel jumped in the air, much to Sam’s astonishment, and waved his hand in the air gallantly, “Well, since you’ve asked so kindly, I am moved to oblige you. I cannot take leave of your hospitality, for I must serve a grander purpose here before I leave.”

“What grander purpose?”

“Love!”

“Love?” Sam shook his head. He was beginning to feel very cramped in the spacious kitchen, with the unexpected guess throwing about abstract purposes as if they were the finest things. He could not see such an angel taking great interest in the trivial pursuits of man. “What love do you wish to serve here?”

“Not what. Whose!”

Sam paled, and then smiled thinly. He could barely stop himself from fully beaming and giving himself away. Looking in on his brother, he decided to play the game. “And who, exactly, is in love here Gabriel? Unless my brother has some poor woman hidden away somewhere…”

“Oh he’s not hiding anything” Gabriel teased as he came to stand by Sam’s side. Both men were focusing on the blond man who still remained alone at the grand table. Sam shook his head,

“I guess you’re right. But I don’t think he sees it.”

“He will.”

Sam eyed the arch angel. He leaned against the door frame and smirked. “He certainly won’t want to. Especially not now.”

“We can change that. The potential is there.”

“It has always been there. But now is the most inopportune time to coax him to show it.”

Gabriel studied the younger brother. He did not feign ignorance to their plight, he knew exactly what Sam was alluding to. He understood the Mark of Cain as well as he understood his Father’s other weapons. “Sam, I know that you care about Dean greatly. I’ve seen it before, kiddo. But you are mistaken in the Mark’s complete effects. He needs help and understanding, although he won’t accept it from you. He can be led to accept it from someone else.”

Sam frowned and looked down at his shoes. “I almost don’t want to try. How selfish can I be? To refuse to try and help my brother over the fear of his ready acceptance of help from someone else.”

“It’s a natural reaction. But never have you been more of a baby brother.”

“I’m not a baby.”

Gabriel chuckled. “I know.”

“Gabe?” The angel quirked an eyebrow, “If it’s going to be anyone, I’m glad it’ll be Cas.”

“I think he is the only one.”


	4. Chapter 4

-A day of well-planned accidents-

 

The arch angel and hunter made sparse plans that night, with the promise to each other to plan more that night, one in his dreams upon a hard mattress, the other one in his coherent mind as he settled in chair in the corner of the sleeping man’s room. There was an overlaying feeling of merriment and conspiracy as they planned each one with growing excitement, the prank they would pull to bring the other two inhabitants of the bunker closer together. Upon waking, they conferred in a private breakfast just what they would do that day. Gabriel would remain invisible; there was no need to focus alarm anywhere else other than where he wanted it pointed.

Getting the two alone in room together was harder than expected.

Sam tried everything he could, he brought up things to research, but Dean would beg off of it. He invited Cas into the kitchen to have breakfast with them that morning (even though Sam was eating a second time), but when he made an excuse to leave, the two merely ate in silence. Even facilitation conversations helped little; it always fell flat after Sam left, even as he noted that Castiel seemed disappointed.

Gabriel was growing impatient; he kept blowing at his brother’s hair, knowing that Cas would never complain out of fear of saying something wrong. It got the desired effect: Cas constantly brushed at his hair, subconsciously trying to stay the itch that Gabriel created. He hoped that it would draw Dean’s attention and that his little brother would catch him looking, but he had no such luck. 

At lunch, they tried a different tactic. Gabriel waited down the hall, and then called Sam on his cell,

“Pretend I’m your woman.”

But Sam had laughed and said something along the lines of, “How did you get this number?” He motioned to Dean and Cas that he was going to take a book and head out, and he hung up as he passed a very disappointed Gabriel in the hall. He watched him as he vanished from sight before entering the room.

Gabriel got to work as quickly as he could. He was surprised to see that both men were still hardly done with their meals, but Castiel had his head in a book. Clicking his tongue in disapproval, he covered the angel’s eyes with his hands, careful to make touch unknown. 

“Dean. I can’t see.”

Dean looked up from his sandwich, “Excuse me?”

“I can’t see.” Castiel had first sounded plainly confused, but now he was beginning to panic. His vision wasn’t returning. He squinted, and he was pretty sure his eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything let alone the book before him. His breath started to hitch in his throat, and he wondered vaguely if he was hyperventilating. His mind was more occupied with the fact that he experienced this blindness before, but it had always gone away after he blinked a few times. He dropped the book, his hands shaking. “Dean! I can’t –”

“Cas. Are you okay?” Castiel was suddenly aware that Dean was beside him, his voice coming to him from the same level. He was kneeling beside him. He felt a tug and fought against the spinning sensation caused by Dean pulling his chair so that they were facing each other. Gabriel shifted in accordance, pleased with the new development so far. Dean knelt before Cas, and reached one arm to steady his shoulder, and waved his other hand in front of his face, he didn’t blink. “Cas?”

“Dean, I think I’m blind.”

Dean swore. “I didn’t think angels could lose their sight.”

“Dean –”

“No, Cas, Stop. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You just have me a little freaked.” Dean breathed slowly, trying to regain his composure. Castiel’s shocking discovery unnerved him more than he wanted to recognize and even though the man in front of him couldn’t see him, he wanted to remain calm for him. As he pulled himself into check, he almost failed to notice Cas’ breathing become quicker and more labored. 

The angel was shaking in the chair. His arms, which he had pulled in and along his sides began to twitch as frantically reached in front of him for something to hold on to. For Dean. He soon began to grow light headed.

“Hey, come down.” 

Cas gasped for air, choking as his hands tightened on Dean’s shirt.

“Cas, you’re fine. I’ve got you.” Dean covered both of Cas’ hands with his own, and circled his thumbs against the rough skin in an attempt to anchor the panicking angel. “I’m right here, just breathe.” He then moved one arm up to lay right in the center of his chest and he pressed firmly there. “I need you to breathe, can you do that?”

After some hesitation, Castiel nodded.

“Good. Just do as I do.” Dean moved Cas’ hand to the center of his chest, and held it there. He controlled his breathing, tuning it to a pattern it hoped the other one could establish for himself. They stayed that way, wound up in each other for a few minutes. Castiel’s breathing was again under his own control, and Dean was patiently waiting for him to realize that. 

“I think I’m better now.”

“That’s good.” Dean straightened up, and removed his hand from the angel’s chest. Castiel, however, refused to let go of Dean. So he rested his hands on the arms that sought him as comfort. 

Gabe snickered quietly, reveling in his handiwork.

“Dean. This has happened before, and I –” 

Gabriel withdrew his hands in shock and retreated back a few steps. Castiel blinked violently, and held his head in his hands as he cried out in pain.

“Cas, what is it?” Dean’s voice was raised in shock and concern, as the angel crumbled in front of him.

“It’s my head, there’s too much light all of a sudden. I can see Dean. My vision, it just came back. I’m not sure why or how.”

“Well that’s a good thing, right? Let me just get the lights.” Dean got up and went across the room to hit the light switch to the left, darkening their half of the room. The dimness would help Cas’ eyes better adjust to being able to receive images again. Crossing back to Castiel, he placed a hand on his knee, “Is that any better?”

Castiel peered at him carefully as he raised his head, still blinking. “Yes. I will be fine. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean shook his head. “Cas?”

“Yes?”

“This has happened before?”

Castiel grimaced. “I do not understand it, but yes.”

“Well, shit. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I did not think it important. I assure you it is nothing. I am fine.”

Dean frowned. “No, you’re not. Don’t lie to me. Not about this.”

“Dean, I don’t even know what this is.” Cas stood, and Dean rose with him. “Can I go, Dean? I wish to go read in the library.” Dean nodded, not trusting his voice. “Thank you.” Castiel smiled, and walked quietly from the room.

Dean cleared his throat to stop him. “We’ll figure this out, Cas.” The angel nodded, and continued on his way.

Gabriel stared in shock as his brother passed him. He focused and reached his consciousness forward, inquiring into the state of his body,

“You’re not using your own grace, are you?”

He should have realized it sooner.


	5. Chapter 5

-Later that evening-

 

“Sam, we need to talk.”

Gabe found himself pacing, once again, but this time he was wearing the hardwood in the youngest hunter’s room. Sam met his stormy eyes with concern,

“Gabriel, what’s wrong?”

“I’ve just learned a whole lot more than I was meant to, more than I want to know.”

Sam eyed him cautiously, “Is everything alright?”

“With me, yes. With Cas? No. Very far from alright.”

“Gabriel. What’s wrong?” 

Gabriel vanished with a snap of his fingers.

Sam swore.

“Sam! You in there?”

Sam shook his head, of course Gabriel disappeared. “Yeah Dean, what’s up?” He had a feeling that he already knew.

Dean walked into Sam’s room, body anxious and eyes sharpened by worry. “Something’s wrong with Cas. Like really wrong, Sam.”

Sam was surprised. He knew what Gabriel had planned to do, and he assumed that Dean was going to tell him just that, but the arch angel had been shocked and worried too, so he wasn’t quite sure what to think. “What happened?”

“He went blind, man.”

Sam raised his eyebrows; so far the plan had followed through accordingly. “Blind?”

“Yeah, like completely all black. The guy nearly had a freakin’ panic attack, he forgot how to breathe for a second.”

“Where is he now? Is he alright?” Sam felt his heartbeat quicken.

Dean stopped and took a deep breath. “He’s in the library. He’s fine. His vision came back and we were able to get his breathing back under control that’s not what scares me.”

“What does?”

“He said this has happened before, man. Like this whole thing wasn’t new to him. What could make an angel go blind?”

“I don’t know” Sam began, he was starting to worry too, and he looked around him half expecting Gabriel to materialize with some answers. “But you know, he’s not exactly the angel he was before. He lost his own grace, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Do think this is some weird side effect?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

Dean nodded and left the room as quickly as he entered it. The man had a mission.

 

“What the hell, Gabriel?”

“He’s burning up.” The arch angel explained as he placed himself in the middle of the room, his back to Sam. “He stole some goon’s grace to buy him some time, but he knew that it wouldn’t be enough. He knew he could never be what he once was, not exactly. What he is soon finding out though, is that it is literally, going to burn him up.”

Sam frowned and stood, “So he’s going to be human again?”

Gabriel turned around in a flash, eyes red and angry, “No, you idiot. He is going to die.”

“What can we do?”

“Offer our condolences to his widow?”

Sam punched him. The angel fell back against the wall with a thud, and the hunter held him to it roughly, “This is not a time to joke, smartass.” Gabriel met his gaze obstinately, “Cas had his grace taken from him once, and he lived. Surely you could do so again.”

“The process was focused on one point of containment. Cas’ grace fit him specifically, he ingested the grace of another person, it is all about him, it doesn’t have its own place in its body. I could take it from him yes, but I would be taking some of him away with it as well.”

“Like what?”

“If I focused, and we got lucky, the most he would lose would be his memories.”

Sam swore for the second time that evening. “We need to tell Dean.”


	6. Chapter 6

-In the library, that same evening-

 

Castiel sat on the floor, his back to a shelf behind him, and another shelf to his side. He was surrounded by carefully placed texts, all of which he had gathered from the shelves for a single purpose. He wanted to feel at home again. The books were all written in enochian, and for once he did not need to break the language to translate it to others. He held one open in front of him, and read quietly to himself, savoring the sound of an exquisite language that hadn’t been spoken to him in so long. It almost seemed too sacred to him now, as if the language was far too good for him to hear. But he kept reading, his words took on a lilting quality, a tone his voice had not held since he sang to the world’s first children, calming them in their exile so that they could sleep so far away from Eden.

“Cas?” 

Castiel startled to attention, dropping the book on to his lap. “Dean?”

Dean followed the sound of the angel’s voice, and paused when he found him practically buried to the nose in a pile of books. “What are you doing?”

“I’m reading, Dean.” Castiel looked up at him in confusion, eyes squinting, wondering what else Dean could think he was doing.

“I can see that. You’ve been here all afternoon, Cas. It’s past dinner.”

“I’m sorry, have you eaten yet?”

“No, I haven’t felt much like eating.”

“Neither have I” Cas admitted quietly.

“You’re scared.” It was a frank observation.

“Yes.”

Dean sat down across from Cas, and took the book from his lap to hold it in his own. “Sam says that it may have something to do with your stolen grace. Is that what is messing you up?”

“I believe so, yes. But I do not understand it. I needed it in the moment, and thought little about its consequences.”

“Is this research?” Dean held up the book.

“No, although I have looked. There is nothing on the effects of taking grace that is not your own here at the bunker. I doubt that even the angels know what will happen. I do not think it has ever been done before.”

“Fuck, Cas.”

The angel hung his head, “I am sorry, Dean. I am ashamed.” He lifted his head and gestured around him, eyes bright and glassy, “I feel like an abomination among my own people. And I know I am like so, even my own language taunts me!” This he said angrily, shoving the many texts away from him. Dean watched, surprised as Castiel rushed to his feet, and went to run from the room. Dean stood to stop him, but it was a wasted effort, as Cas caught his foot on a discarded book, and fell, his knee giving a disgusting pop as he sank to the floor with little grace. Dean rushed to his side, and pulled him against him.

“Shh Cas, stay still. You’ve dislocated your knee.”

“Fuck, Dean.”

Dean chuckled. “For an angel, that was pretty funny. But you’ve always had your own way.” Dean shook his head, not meaning to say so much.

“Yes, although I may not be an angel much longer.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Really?"

“Yes. Now shut up, this is going to hurt.” Dean moved Cas so that he was leaning against the book shelf, and moved in front of him. He took his leg in one hand, and held his thigh down with the other, “On three”

“It’s never on thr – shit!” Castiel clenched his teeth as his felt and heard his knee find its way back into socket. Dean reached in his jean’s pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Dialing his brother’s number, he gave instructions to bring the first aid kit and hung up.

“Sam’s on his way, we’ve got to immobilize it so that it can heal. Although you may not need it.”

“I need it, Dean.” Castiel bit his lip, frowning down at his knee. “The pain’s not fading. In fact, it’s getting worse.”

Dean coughed, “That’s not good.”

The angel shook his head. “No it’s not. And Metatron said –” But he couldn’t finish.

Dean met his eyes in alarm, and paled when he saw how glassy and unfocused they were. He moved quickly as Cas fell to the side, and caught him in his arms. Dean pulled him close to support him, the man shaking slightly in his arms as he tried to right himself.

“Cas, deep breaths, man. And stay still, I got you. You can’t move right now, you’ll only make it worse.”

Sam found them then, his cheeks slightly flushed from running and panic. Seeing Cas so weak in his brother’s arms moved him to action. He fell to his knees and opened the first aid kit, searching for the knee brace he knew was in there. All Dean could do was hold the semi – conscious angel. Sam placed the brace, and tightened it as much as he dared, when another man made his presence known in the room.

“He’s getting worse. And fast.”

Dean jumped slightly, jarring Castiel, who whimpered softly. “Sorry Cas, just hang on buddy. What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were dead, damnit.”

“He’s not, Dean. I brought him here.” 

“What! Why?”

“Because he knows what’s going on with Cas.” Sam had thought it best to keep the real reason for Gabriel’s visit a secret. They had more important things to focus on than a silly and childish game. “I thought he was dead too, but he showed up at the bunker today, and he seems to know what is going on.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Now” Sam said simply.

Dean just shook his head and focused his attention on Cas, who was pushing him to let him stand up. He seemed to be somewhat restored, but his urgings were frantic and all over the place. Dean tried to calm him as he raised him to sit, but Cas remained frantic, even when Dean leaned him against his side with his arm around his shoulders. “Is that any better, Cas?”

Gabriel looked on, regret fresh in his eyes.

Castiel shook his head, now pawing at Dean’s chest, his other hand jabbing at the side of his face. His breathing began to quicken.

“Cas” Dean said, nearly panicking, “What’s wrong?”

Gabriel took a step forward and kneeled beside Sam, “He’s losing his sense of touch. He’s falling apart, Dean.” Sam shifted uncomfortably, caught between reproach at Gabriel’s blunt delivery of the truth, and sympathy over how it broke his brother. Dean seemed to forget how to breathe.

Cas moved his hand to stroke Dean’s face in comfort, and blinked furiously when he still couldn’t feel a thing. 

Overtaken by his desire to establish his sense of touch, and needing Dean to anchor him in that moment, Castiel seized Dean’s face on both sides with clumsy hands, his grip strong but not seeming so to him. He met Dean’s eyes in desperation, and lunged forward, bringing their lips together forcefully. Dean’s grip on his arms tightened, and drew him closer. Castiel’s lips were soft, but he could not move them as he wished, for he could not feel Dean’s lips against his, and could only sense their closeness by being aware of it. Dean, in that moment, didn’t seem to care. He pulled Cas closer, and kissed him with complete disregard for their company, his desperation built up and kept suppressed for years, mirroring Cas’ perfectly. When their lips parted, Castiel began to cry.

“Metatron said that I was burning up, Dean. That’s what I meant to say before. Maybe this is it.”

“This is it” Gabriel answered, “And we need to fix it, now.”

Dean shook his head, and pulled Cas closer to him. “How?”

“You’re not going to like it, Dean” Sam warned, “and Cas needs to understand why.”

Cas looked up at Sam, confused. Sam looked down,

“I don’t have the answer, Cas. At least, I don’t understand it. Gabriel does, though, and he will tell you.”

His eyes shifted, and brothers long separated by differences in temperament locked gazes solemnly.

“You are going to die, little brother.”

Castiel balked, and leaned into Dean heavily. The hunter wrapped his arms around him protectively, instantly on the offensive.

“Like hell he is!”

“I don’t want this to happen” Gabriel said softly.

“Then save him.” Sam smiled sadly at his brother, and looked at the floor in defeat.

“He may not be able to, Dean.” Castiel remarked quietly.

“I can’t” Gabriel said. “Not completely.”

“What does that mean?” Dean growled. He was angry. This whole situation kept building, and he couldn’t bring himself to understand it. His angel was lying in his arms, wounded. The man he had treated so poorly, and yet remained so devoted to him was dying, and he couldn’t save him. His eyes suddenly grew heavy under the weight of impending tears.

“You’re going to lose quite a big part of him.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“But Cas does.” Sam said forcefully.

“Yes” Gabriel sighed, “he does.” He reached forward and placed his hand on his brother’s knee, his palm radiated blue, and Cas’ pain eased completely. “You have a choice, brother. The grace inside you is burning up, and it is doing so quickly. It will take you with it, and you will die. But I can help you. The grace needs to be extracted, but it is so lost within your system that I can’t remove it completely without risking you in the process. I need to you to agree to let me try, but you need to know the consequences.”

“What will I lose?” The question was so simple, but Castiel’s voice wavered, and he closed his eyes waiting for the answer.

“If all goes well, only your memories, and maybe not all. Perhaps there will come a time when you will be able to recover them. It will have to be a natural process, for you will be human and anything angel would be too powerful for you to bear.”

“I would lose contact with all my kin?”

“I mean that I would not be able to help you recover them, for any power even remotely angelic will be too much for you.” Gabriel smiled softly, “Your family will still recognize you, Castiel. Even if they wish not to at present.”

“My memories are not something lightly lost” Castiel argued.

Gabriel’s gaze softened, “I never said they were, brother.”

“I don’t want to forget!” With this cry, half plea, half anguished sob, Castiel turned to Dean, and focused on him alone. Dean bit back tears, and moved to brush his hair back, running it through his fingers.

“I don’t want you to forget either, Cas. But I’ll be here. Sam and I, we’ll help you.” He answered. 

Sam nodded his agreement.

“So Cas” Gabriel said “What do you think?”

“I think that I dislike this greatly.”

“As do I, little brother. But you have done great things for this little world here, and great things for Home, and they will remember you for it. They will be there for you when you can once again recognize them.”

“Can you guarantee that?”

“I can endeavor to.”

Castiel once again turned to Dean and whispered in confidence, “I don’t wish to be a burden.”

“You will never be a burden. Cas, you’re family.” Dean bent and kissed the top of his head. Sam reached out, and squeezed his shoulder, smiling softly when he heard his brother’s quiet “I love you.”

“Are you ready, brother?” Gabriel’s eyes were sad, aged the totality of all his years.

Castiel squared his shoulders, squeezed Dean’s hand in his, and answered steadily, “Yes.”

 

Gabriel moved forward in one fluid, careful motion, and placed a hand on Castiel’s chest. He took a deep breath, and warned to the hunter’s to close their eyes. Both did so, the oldest still clutching his protector to him, his desperate hold recognizing the shift in their intimacy. The righteous man, once raised from hell by a rebellious angel, was now on earth to protect that very same angel who had lost himself for his rebellion. 

When Gabriel finished, and Cas’s screams subsided into a fit of startled whimpers, he disappeared. The arch angel, catching Sam’s eye halfheartedly before he flickered away, could not bear to stay behind only to be forgotten by the only sibling with whom he had anything in common.

Dean had no such option, and neither did Sam. They remained behind, and they waited with sad anticipation for their only remaining family member to open his eyes. To greet them with any sense of coherency.

Dean looked down, tears in his eyes as he heard his angel (for he knew of no better nickname) gasp, and felt his heart break at the empty look his eyes held, made bare by the detached curiosity Castiel regarded him with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you for sticking with me this far! I hope that you enjoyed the ending. I'm thinking of writing a sequel, anybody interested?
> 
> Reviews are welcome and appreciated!


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